


Intimate, Anomalous

by leiascully



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Body Horror, Body Modification, Established Relationship, Fluff, For Science!, Guro, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex with Cecil is complicated (they're not quite tentacles, and Carlos is never really sure about that third eye).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimate, Anomalous

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-"First Date"  
> A/N: This is supposed to be guro for Kink Bingo, but it ended up pretty fluffy, so despite the tag, I don't think most people will be unable to handle it. There's some very brief potential body horror (but it works out really well for Carlos). Cecil's various anomalies are mostly based on fanart I've seen on tumblr, but I couldn't begin to give proper credit for that. Thank you, OPs, whoever you may be.  
> Disclaimer: _Welcome To Night Vale_ and all related characters are the property of Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor, and Commonplace Books. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Having sex with Cecil is complicated.

Some aspects of it aren't. Some are almost laughably easy. Carlos waited until the requisite third date to invite Cecil in. They were standing on the sidewalk after walking back from Applebee's - Cecil had been tempted by the Bourbon Street Chicken on the 2 for $20 menu, claiming it evoked a genuine sensation of the ambiance of Bourbon Street, especially the lingering scent of desperation and absinthe sweat. Carlos had gotten the Fiesta Lime Chicken, which tasted something like lime and very little like any fiesta he'd ever attended, but they'd both enjoyed the Triple Chocolate Meltdown, at least until it had erupted all over both of them, necessitating the use of copious moist towelettes to save Cecil's second-best tunic. 

After Applebee's, they took a walk through Old Town Night Vale. Cecil pointed out some of the more scenic and historical horrors. Carlos took Cecil's hand and held it, which seemed to take the edge off the creeping fear that hung around the Old Night Vale Psychiatric Hospital And Discount Abattoir like a looming fog. They strolled along enjoying the breeze until they reached Carlos' car. 

"Well," Cecil said, "I guess we should call it an evening." He closed his eyes and tipped his face slightly up, waiting for a kiss. Carlos leaned in and obliged, kissing Cecil lightly as the breeze ruffled his hair and fluttered the tails of his lab coat against Cecil's thighs. He drew back slowly, enjoying the blissful expression on Cecil's face. Cecil opened his eyes slowly, as if he were reluctant to wake up from a beautiful dream. Carlos felt his heart thud exactly twice. 

Cecil was so handsome and his eyes, gazing up at Carlos, were so dreamy. Carlos wanted to make that expression last. The urge to gaze at Cecil's quietly adoring face was inexplicable, or the explanation was beyond the realm of science, but it was very strong. Carlos was learning to accept those urges, even those that were extra-scientific. Night Vale was a strange place - Carlos had experienced many things that couldn't yet be explained since he'd moved here. At least Cecil - handsome Cecil, loyal Cecil - was a benevolent mystery. 

"Would you like to come in?" Carlos offered.

"Oh, _yes_ ," Cecil breathed, his eyes luminous in the dimming evening. 

The only complicated thing at that point was that they were standing in front of Cecil's apartment, not Carlos', but that was an easy mistake to remedy. 

"Maybe you should ask me in instead," Carlos proposed. 

" _Carlos_ ," Cecil murmured, "perfect Carlos. Would you...like to come in? For a _nightcap_ or similar beverage or... **activity**?"

"I would love that," Carlos assured him, and in they walked, arm in arm.

The wine tasted more like copper than wine ordinarily did, but they only sipped at their glasses anyway, and then Carlos leaned forward and brushed Cecil's knee, and their usual one gentle kiss turned into many kisses, less and less gentle. The kissing was ordinary - no, not ordinary, absolutely _extraordinary_ , but normal, within the parameters of Carlos' personal experience. The slow and steady removal of piece after piece of clothing was normal, although Cecil did have more tattoos than Carlos had expected. The ecstasy of discovery was normal, although delight licked like fire through Carlos' veins as Cecil slid his palms down Carlos' bare arms, murmuring in wordless pleasure. It was sweet in a way: articulate Cecil too overcome to speak. The anatomy was as expected, generally, definitely within the parameters.

The tendrils were new. They weren't tentacles, not precisely (Carlos needed precision in the face of sudden tendrils). They didn't have suckers. They didn't have teeth or eyes or hooks at the ends, a fact for which Carlos was profoundly grateful as the tendrils caressed some of his more tender regions. Moments later, he became profoundly grateful in some other ways for the mere existence of the tendrils, which were muscular and covered in smooth skin and very, _very_ dextrous. The tendrils slid easily over Carlos' body, gently at first, and then more and more firmly. They were strong, comforting and exciting all at once, like an extremely sensual massage. Cecil talked the entire time, his beautiful voice calming Carlos' momentary worry and his much less momentary to measure and record every detail about the tendrils. Carlos had never experienced anything like it. He would have sworn that the ceiling of Cecil's bedroom was scattered with stars, bright points of light laid across his field of vision. 

"Sorry," Cecil said afterwards, curling up against Carlos' chest, his fingers delicately stroking the gentle swell of Carlos' left pectoral. Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that Cecil would have happily stroked the raw muscle of Carlos' heart, but somehow that didn't bother him the way it would have, in his life before Night Vale. It was almost charming, the delicious literalness of the place. Of Cecil. Here, if Cecil offered Carlos his heart, well, it _might_ not be Cecil's own personal heart, but it would be an actual heart. And the tendrils might have been a surprise, but at least they were a pleasant surprise. Cecil gazed up at Carlos, a worry line creasing his smooth brow. 

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry about," Carlos assured him. "It was...enjoyable." He notices that his voice is slipping into the dramatic cadence of Cecil's radio delivery. 

"I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll **stay** the night," Cecil murmured.

Carlos bent his head to kiss Cecil's forehead. "Next time. I have a busy day tomorrow."

"There is always so much **science** to be done," Cecil said wistfully.

"Yes," Carlos told him. "And there will always be science to do. But that doesn't mean I can't make time for other things. Although 'making time' is a figure of speech - none of us can create a moment out of thin air."

"I thought that was what we _just did_ ," Cecil teased, and Carlos kissed him again before he put on his clothes, beginning with his underwear and ending with a semi-casual lab coat. Cecil sat up in bed to wave goodbye, the tendrils pulling the sheets up to cover himself. Carlos stepped out into the night. It got so cool in the desert at night. The moon hung overhead. For a moment, Carlos thought it looked more menacing than a simple slightly-irregular sphere of rock orbiting its parent should look. But then he blinked and it was only the moon, the ordinary moon, not floating in the sky (mostly void, partially stars), but known, following the rules of gravity.

Carlos drove home and dreamed of tendrils stroking him all over, wrapping around his torso, caressing his cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. 

"I do apologize," Cecil said the next day on the phone. "I would have mentioned something, but...you know how embarrassing it can be when it's **that time of the month**."

"No, I don't," Carlos said gently. "But I look forward to investigating."

"Well, if you are the one investigating, I will **gladly** offer myself to science," Cecil said. 

Carlos laughed, just a little, and he could almost hear Cecil beam.

\+ + + +

The next time, there were no tendrils, which was something of a disappointment. But Cecil was intensely amourous, almost fierce in his desire. Carlos matched his intensity, kissing Cecil until their teeth clicked and their hips knocked and they fumbled as they undressed each other. Cecil's tattoos looked as if they were throbbing, but surely that was the light.

" _Something_ about those  soft meat crowns," Cecil panted. "God, it just...gets me going."

That wasn't exactly what Carlos wanted to hear as Cecil's mouth descended, but he stopped worrying about it very quickly. Cecil took him deeper and deeper until Carlos could hardly believe it. He glanced down and then looked back up and shut his eyes. While, personally, he did appreciate the sensations that Cecil's mouth was giving him, it was more than a little strange to see Cecil's face stretched out in ways that should be impossible for human faces to stretch. Specifically, his jaw seemed to extend much farther than normal, with the end result that Cecil's mouth could easily accommodate the length of Carlos' penis without triggering any sort of gag reflex or discomfort on Cecil's part. 

Carlos wondered, very briefly, if it would be necessary to recreate these conditions in his laboratory in order to measure Cecil's variance from the mean of facial capacity, but the thought was gone almost as soon as it had formed. Cecil's impossible mouth did impossible things. Carlos was parched with lust, as if he'd spent too long in the sand wastes with no water, dodging the helicopters with the murals of predatory birds. He reached out until Cecil put his hand in Carlos', squeezing reassuringly, and that was all Carlos needed. He let Cecil coax him to the peak of arousal and over, and afterwards, Cecil's face looked like it usually did. 

Carlos wondered if he'd dreamed it, the intriguingly grotesque distortion of Cecil's face. He felt a little pulse of arousal just thinking about it, which was not how he usually felt about grotesque distortions in Night Vale. But this one - and the tendrils - had certainly worked to his advantage. He looked forward to discovering more of Cecil's particular idiosyncrasies, if that was the right word. In fact, if he weren't already so relaxed, he thought that even the idea of Cecil's idiosyncrasies might arouse him. 

Perhaps some things science didn't really _need_ to explain. At least not right away. 

As Carlos fell asleep, he thought he saw a third eye in the middle of Cecil's forehead, but surely that was a result of his fatigue, and the fact that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

\+ + + +

Another time - a much later time, when Carlos was seeing Cecil nearly every night, or to be precise, an average of five point three six nights out of seven, and he had learned to look forward to Cecil's time of the month - Carlos was startled to notice that Cecil was growing more and more pale as he approached the point of climax. Carlos immediately stopped stroking, worried that Cecil was becoming ill, but Cecil reached out and grasped Carlos' wrist. 

"No," he gasped. "It's all right. This happens. **Please** don't stop."

Carlos returned to touching Cecil, caressing Cecil in all the ways that he liked. Carlos had offered to use his mouth tonight, but Cecil loved to kiss Carlos as he came, and Carlos enjoyed the things that Cecil loved. Carlos stroked and Cecil gasped, and at the moment that Cecil's body tensed, it also became transparent. Not all of it, but Cecil's skin became transparent, and his bones became translucent, and he looked like an anatomy model aside from the tattoos still etched into his pellucid skin. Carlos could see the blood scudding through Cecil's veins. He could see Cecil's organs, each properly shaped, in its proper place, healthy and firm although tinged with more green than Carlos would have expected. And Cecil's semen, against the dark of Carlos' leg, glowed faintly for approximately thirty seconds before the bioluminescence faded. 

"I apologize," Cecil said afterwards, as Carlos took his turn in the shower. 

"It's fine," Carlos said, wiping a clear place on the fogged shower door to look at Cecil, who was brushing his teeth and had foam all around his mouth.

"It doesn't happen often," Cecil said. "I should have warned you."

"You fascinate me," Carlos told him, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. "Personally and scientifically." He began to towel himself off. Cecil rinsed his mouth and looked at Carlos, blushing a little. 

"I'm nobody special," Cecil said.

"You're wrong about that," Carlos said. "You are somebody very special. And not just for your interesting appendages and varying opacity. One might even say you have a certain inner beauty - your organs all looked very healthy. That is, in addition to your metaphorical inner beauty, and of course your outer beauty, which, although this is a very subjective measure, I find to be very charming."

"How _wonderful_ of you to say," Cecil said, and if Carlos can't quantify the look in Cecil's eyes, he can certainly name it, and he can certainly replicate it, and he doesn't even need laboratory conditions.


End file.
